


Trash

by xxxHopelessStory (orphan_account)



Series: cold [1]
Category: Mitch grassi - Fandom, Scott Hoying - Fandom, Superfruit
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-01-25 23:46:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12543988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/xxxHopelessStory
Summary: Mitch gets kidnapped. Will he be able to escape? Will anyone be able to find him before it’s too late?Title is Song by Korn called Trash. Go listen to it, it’s pretty good :)





	1. Chapter 1

Mitch stumbled out into the cool night air, his shoes making soft taps as he walked towards the direction of no where in particular. He could still taste the wine he had. Glasses and glasses of red wine. Every now and then he had to stop and brace himself against the wall to prevent himself from falling over. 

Maybe if Scott hadn’t annoyed him so much, he wouldn’t be in this position Mitch thought to himself. Scott always wanted to start these little arguments just for the sake of annoying Mitch.  
Now here he was. Walking in no particular direction, drunk out of his mind and stumbling. 

A wave a nausea hit him and he turned down a small alley. Mitch braced himself against the wall and slid down till he was sitting on his butt, knees up to his chest with his head resting on them. Stars were swirling behind his eyelids. 

After about five minutes, Mitch had the unsettling feeling of being watched.  
No no, he thought. No one was watching them were they? It was only his drunken state making him feel paranoid.  
That was all it was right? Paranoia. 

Still, Mitch got to his feet once again and started walking.  
He felt so sick and he didn’t know where he was.  
Rethinking his decision to leave the party, he turned back around to walk back in the direction he came from. Hopefully he’d make it back to the bar. 

But as soon as he turned around he ran straight into another body. 

“Sorry.” Mitch slurred.  
“Oh no don’t worry about it. You look familiar? Do I know you from somewhere?” The stranger asked him, placing a heavy hand on Mitch’s shoulder.  
He squinted to get a better look at him but it was hard to in the dark.  
Green eyes. Tall.  
That was all Mitch could make out.  
“Sorry. I need to be somewhere soon.”  
“Oh well do you need a ride? My car is just the other way,” he insisted, his grip on Mitch’s shoulder becoming slightly firmer.  
“N-no sorry I really need to go now.”  
Mitch attempted to shake the hand off of his shoulder but the other man dug his nails into his skin and shoved Mitch against the wall.  
A small startled noise escaped Mitch’s lips as he was momentarily stunned from the impact of the wall. The larger man quickly ran his fingers through Mitch’s short hair, gripped a fistful, and shoved his head into the wall over and over again.  
He weakly tried to shove the person away but the pain combined with his drunken state, plus the fact that the man was much stronger and bigger than him, made it impossible for him to actually succeed. How many times had his head been forced against the wall? Ten? Fifteen? Mitch tried to remain conscious but his head felt like it was about to explode. 

Then everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi  
> I suck AsS and these sooooo sorry for any mistakes lol

As soon as Scott opened his eyes the next morning, he knew something was off. Mitch wasn’t in his room. He remembered last nights events perfectly. Scott purposely pissed Mitch off and Mitch angrily left the building-drunk. Even though he was drunk he should have still been able to find his way back to the hotel that they were staying at with the rest of Pentatonix. How long had it been since he had last seen Mitch, Scott thought to himself. It couldn’t have been that long.  
“I’ll wait a few more hours...maybe he got up early to go check out the stores.” Scott said quietly to himself.  
Because there was no way something had happened to him right? Impossible.  
Scott got up from his bed and sat in a chair across from the door staring at it intently as a uneasy feeling a dread nestled into his stomach. 

——————————————————-

Agonizing pain and a too-bright light. Mitch tried to open his eyes but it proved impossible. His head was throbbing. And slight move and shocks of pain would go through his head.  
There was something cool and wet underneath his head that was surely making his skull feel better, though he was unable to see what it was.  
Mitch tried to think back to what happened last night for him to be in so much pain but it was like trying to look through a black smoke screen. Murky and unsure. But something had to have happened and he couldn’t just lay here.  
He had to move. Call out to Scott or get some sort of medical help.  
Mitch mustered up all the strength he had and attempted to move anything- a finger or toe, arm or leg.  
He was so cute when struggled. Years after watching him behind a screen was nothing compared to having him right in front of you.  
He was so small, so frail, so helpless.  
The man watched Mitch struggle on the floor listening to the distressed moans escaping his lips.  
He smirked his lips and placed the face mask over his eyes.  
“Hey baby, how did you sleep?”  
Mitch stopped moving and possibly even breathing. He took a few steps closer until he was looking directly down at Mitch’s face. His slightly tanned, delicate face.  
“No response hm?”  
He stooped down and grabbed the smaller boy by the shoulders.  
“Open your eyes.”  
After receiving no response yet again the stranger roughly pulled Mitch along and sat him in a chair. He jammed his fingers into Mitch’s eyes, prying them open.  
“I SAID FUCKING OPEN YOUR EYES.”  
Mitch screamed. He felt like his skull was going to burst open any moment.  
His eyes where forced open and he finally took a look at his surroundings. There was a small lamp with an unbelievably bright lightbulb in it- the source of the blinding light. The rest of the room was dark and cold. Water was dripping all over the cement floor, there was a bucket in the corner, and he was sitting in a chair that seemed to be made of metal.  
Mitch was so distracted that he had forgotten about the man standing next to him until he felt a hand press against his cheek.  
“Well hello beautiful. I’m glad to finally see you awake,” he said in a deep raspy voice, trailing a finger  
Mitch jerked away from him. Another pain shot through his head.  
“Careful honey, wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”  
Slight tremors started going through Mitch’s body as he started to get scared.  
The bigger man was running his hands up and down his body, breathing in his ear. His fingers found the buttons on Mitch’s shirt and started working them. He got halfway through his shirt then moved onto his pants, unzipping they but doing nothing more.  
Mitch willed himself to say something but it was like his mouth had been glued shut. His throat was so dry.  
He licked the shell of Mitch’s ear then pushed him back off the chair onto the wet ground.  
He turned around and swiftly walked out the room, turning off the lamp in the process.  
Mitch was left shivering on the cold, wet ground, his shirt and pants half undone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heheheheh sorry I’m not really good at describing things and stuff and I don’t really want to get I to detail about the torture methods and stuff- but you’ll get the picture about what was happening. 
> 
> Read my bio if u want to know why.

How long had he been here? A day? A week? A month.  
Mitch didn’t know. The unbearable pain in his head had subsided to a sharp aching, a perpetual headache. The man that had taken him hadn’t returned for some time and Mitch was beginning to lose hope that he ever would. If he never returned then he would sit here and waste away.  
Hunger pains came every few minutes for him and the side that he had been laying on was sore and bruised.  
He shifted around to lay on his back and stare up at the ceiling.  
Thoughts rushed through his head- thoughts about Scott, Pentatonix, if he would ever make it out of here. Water from the floor had soaked up into his clothes and he was soaking wet.  
After what seemed for hours, Mitch heard the sound of a door clicking open and shutting. Footsteps and rustling followed.  
Mitch’s kidnapper casually walked into the room. He was still laying on the floor where he left him, only instead of on his side, on his back. His face was still badly swollen and he looked miserable. Splotches of blue and purple, stubble on his chin, bags under his eyes.  
“Hey beautiful. How do you feel?” He asked with a sickly sweet voice. He didn’t know why he bothered with the voice. It’s not like he actually cared.  
Mitch followed the man with his eyes, not giving any response.  
Suddenly, the air rushed out of him and he screamed in pain as a harsh kick was delivered to his ribs- followed by another and then one more.  
“Now let’s try this again. How do you feel?”  
The larger male got down on his knees and leaned down towards Mitch’s curling body. He took a hand and held Mitch’s face so he was looking directly at him.  
“Answer me when I am talking to you baby.”  
Mitch took a few hard swallows and responded “,it hurts.”  
“Aw baby I know. It’s supposed to.”  
He harshly pushed the trembling boys face back down and stood up after hearing the satisfying sound of his head hitting the floor.  
He grabbed the bag of supplies he had brought in with him- a rag, chains, knife, lighter, whip. The normal.  
“So, which one would you like to start with Mitchy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehheheheheheheheh


	4. Chapter 4

Five days.  
It had been five days since anyone had seen Mitch.  
Five days of nail biting anxiety.  
Five days of self blame.  
The police had came and went. Collecting statements and interrogating almost everyone at the party.  
Trying to keep as much of out the press as possible. As far as the press knew, Mitch had gone on a vacation to some sort of unknown resort. He had only left a letter for Scott and the rest of their group.  
Scott could only think about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t of upset Mitch that night. That Mitch would still be there if not for him.  
Scott sure as hell hoped he wasn’t dead. Maybe he really had gone on some sort of vacation.  
He was itching to go out and look for Mitch, but he had no clue where to look. There was no trail of blood. No DNA. He had already checked and so had the police. It would be pointless to go out and look but Scott couldn’t help the feeling of being useless. He HAD to look for Mitch.  
He had to find him.

—————————————————

Tears leaked from his eyes.  
Mitch would never forget that feeling.  
He was so dirty. So used.  
His hands had been handcuffed to the chair which turned out to be bolted to the floor. It prevented him from moving much, not that he would if he could.  
He had been stripped of his clothes, beaten, choked, touched.  
Everything that he never wanted to be.  
Everything that he never imagine he’d be.  
He could only see out of one eye and he had to take small shallow breaths or else pain would blossom in his side. Blood was dripping from his nose, dotting the corners of his mouth. Angry red hand prints traced the insides of his thighs.  
Mitch was broken.  
He wanted to be back with Scott. They may have not been together but he wanted to be held by him. Wrapped in his arms.  
He felt so cold.  
His body began to shake when he heard the door open.  
“Hey baby.”  
Mitch didn’t know if he should respond or not...or if he even could respond.  
“Not speaking today hm? That’s okay. You hungry? I brought some food.”  
Mitch tensed up when he started walking towards him. He had a small container in one hand and a plastic spoon in the other.  
He crouched down in front of Mitch’s shaking figure, opened the container, and dipped the spoon into whatever was in it.  
“Open.”  
Mitch looked him in the eye. There was no way he was opening his mouth. No way. “Open your mouth before I fucking make you open it.”  
He swallowed hard and hesitantly opened his mouth, afraid of the threat.  
Without warning, the spoon was shoved into his mouth and he began gagging when it hit the back of his throat. A few seconds later the spoon was removed only to be shoved back into his mouth.  
Mitch wasn’t even sure anything was on the spoon. He didn’t feel anything trailing down his throat like any food would normally do.  
Was this just for play?  
Finally the man backed away and put the objects in his hands down.  
Mitch’s crying had turned into heavy sobbing and his throat was sore.  
“Now that you’re nice and fed would you like to pick up where we left off yesterday? Or try something new,” The man said as he watched Mitch weep. His body truly was exquisite. His hips and ribs were jutting out- a sure sign he had lost weight since he had gotten here.  
He uncuffed Mitch and pushed him down on the floor. He climbed on top, straddled him, and pressed his lips to Mitch’s while his hands explored the boys body.


	5. Chapter 5

Rest In Peace Lil peep, u will b missed.   
he made good music and he was a good person in general.   
depression and addiction is not beautiful.   
it doesn’t make you a fragile fairy in need of being saved.   
it takes lives and it is a terrible thing to go through. 

Sorry.   
will be updating both stories soon. 

Rest In Peace William.   
Rest In Peace Gustav Åhr.  
Rest In Peace. 

 

 

~Ensam.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back.

Decisions decisions.  
‘Fucker’ (as Mitch nicknamed him in his head) paced back and forth in the cellar where he kept his little pet and tried to reach a final decision.  
He could either sell Mitch like his father typically did with people, or he could keep him and occasionally let people use him for a day or two. He had already taken his virginity (presumably) so it would be no problem to let others use him. He already had taken the most valuable thing.  
But selling Mitchy would be hard. He was too old. Most people sold would be in their early teens. Mitch was in his mid twenties. Besides, it would break his heart to let such a beautiful thing go.  
Mitch watched ‘fucker’ through half closed eyes, fighting off sleep. He didn’t know what the man would do as he slept.  
Would he wake up with the sicko on top of ohim again? What if he got the chance to escape but missed it because he had been sleeping? His eyelids felt heavy and his eyes where dry. It was no surprise really, he had been virtually crying to whole time he had been here. His eyes had run out of tears.  
Mitch jumped when he suddenly stopped walking back and forth through the room and started towards him. He tried to roll himself up into a little ball but was too slow; ‘fucker’ reached down, grabbed one of Mitch’s ankles, then yanked him back.  
A hellish scream escaped Mitch’s lips when he felt (and heard) a sickening pop followed by pain almost as bad as in his head and side.  
“Aw what’s wrong cumslut? Did I hurt you again?”  
Mitch’s body tremors resumed as the man continued talking.  
“It’s been a few days now since I’ve had you and I’ve finally come to a decision. I’ve spent a long time thinking about this and Im done being mr. nice guy. I will own you. I control you. You fuck whoever I tell you to fuck and you do whatever I tell you to do. You will call me sir. Not master, not daddy. Just sir. You understand so far?”  
Mitch’s eyes widened and the knot of fear and anxiety turned into a pit of terror. “Yes...”  
A hand flew up to his hair, grabbing a handful then yanking his head so he was staring directly into to other mans eyes.  
“Yes what?” He said with a sneer.  
“....yes sir.”  
“Good cumslut.”  
A wolfish grin spread on the mans...well “sirs” face.  
“Now, lets begin your proper training.”

——————————————————-

A clue. The police had found a clue.  
Hope spread throughout Scott’s body like a wildfire.  
His Mitch would be found.  
“Now we still don’t know where he is but hopefully this will help.”  
Nothing else that was said mattered. Mitch. A clue had been found. That meant Mitch would be found.  
Hurt, but he would still be found.  
A puddle of blood, a shoe, and his phone.  
“We sent everything to the lab to be dusted for fingerprints. There still hope.”  
Scott let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.  
Mitch would be found.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time jump. Been about a month. End to this story in the series. Chapters should start getting longer.

An eternity.   
He’d been here for an eternity.   
Sure there was no windows or clocks, but when you’re trapped in the dark, the exact time is irrelevant. When he wasn’t sleeping he was daydreaming, his mind was wandering and swimming in the darkness. Time didn’t matter anymore, he was never getting out.   
That fucking sadist- sir- confirmed it more than once.   
There would be no more sunlight, pentatonix, Scott. Mitch was all alone. He was bruised and bloody. He was restrained by a pair of metal handcuffs and his feet were tied together with some thick, coarse rope. Even if he hadn’t been restrained, he wouldn’t have moved anyways. Pain was everywhere. In his bones, his muscles, his flesh. Moving was the least desirable option in the world for Mitch.   
More often than not, his mind wandered. It was his own desperate attempt to not be in the room where he was abused daily.   
He thought about his family, friends, how everything was. He thought about the day he was taken. He shouldn’t have gotten so mad at Scott and he shouldn’t have drank, even if it was just a few glasses of wine. Mitch couldn’t even remember what he was so upset about. He was stupid. He got himself into this situation.   
Mitch blinked a few times. His eyes were dry and he needed water and food.   
As if right on queue, Sir walked into the room.   
“Hey little one. Enjoy your little time alone? You have a customer today,” he paused to lick his lips then continued “,don’t forget all your training. If you do a good job maybe I will let you walk around a little bit in the house. Have something to eat. How does that sound pet?”   
It took a little bit, but Mitch managed to answer in a raspy pained voice.   
“Yes sir.”  
The other man quickly turned around and left the room, leaving the heavy door open. A few moments later another man walked in. A scar was running straight through his eye and eyebrow, like he was a villain from a cheesy superhero movie.   
“He was not lying...you sure are a fine piece of meat. Too bad your handcuffed, I’d love to put your hands to use.”  
Within seconds the man was on top of Mitch, hands sliding along his chest, slipping beneath his boxers- the only piece of clothing that he had been allowed to wear.   
Maybe if this had happened a few weeks earlier, Mitch would have fought. He would have cried. But now he just sat there taking it. Taking the unwanted kisses and touches. Taking what he probably deserved and what he had been trained to do.   
He was a slave. 

————————————————-

Regardless of the clue the police had found several week earlier, they were no close to finding who took Mitch. As each week passed, Scott became more and more depressed. His poor Mitch was out there going through god knows what. He could be dead in a ditch.... Scott tried to remain hopeful but it was so hard. He just wanted Mitch to come back alive and well.   
He wanted Mitch.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER IS SUPER SHORT AND IK. It Is the last chapter.   
> Ik throughout the whole lil fic the chapters where short. Lmao sorry bout that but what a happened during his captivity isn’t really the whole *point*. The whole series mainly focuses on his recovery. So next book in the series will have longer chapters (and it will be more important than this one) I promise. I will begin on the next book soon don’t worry. I will never ever leave a story of mine unfinished. While y’all wait for the next part of the fic to come out, feel free to read any other of my works. Thxs for reading this y’all. U probs gonna like the next story in this series cuz there will be a lot more detail :) kk bye

Months passed by and Mitch just took it. He took it all like a good slave and he didn’t complain. Sir was cruel and merciless. At least five people came in every single day and if there was any complaint it was Mitch’s ass on the line even if it was the customers fault.   
Despite all the abuse, Mitch remained in the little space he created in his head, completely ignoring the world around him.   
But one day whenever sir walked in something was different.   
He didn’t have the same smirk on it as he usually did. His brown eyes didn’t look angry or hungry.   
“Come pet it is time for you to go.”  
Mitch watched him with glassy eyes as he untied his hands and sat him upright.   
“Come on hurry up.”  
Sir was a fucking idiot. Mitch hadn’t used his legs in forever, his whole captivity had been spent laying on the floor like a blind and crippled bat. He was not going to be able to stand up.   
“Can you not stand or what? Get the fuck up.”  
Bingo bitch.   
Tired of his unresponsiveness, Sir roughly picked Mitch up bridal style then began walking to wherever he was going. The sudden movement caused Mitch’s head to spin and it was a struggle to stay conscious.   
‘He’s probably just going to fucking kill me. No use in staying awake to feel it’ Mitch thought to himself so he allowed the darkness to take over slowly.   
The last thing he remembered was a blinding light followed by something that felt oddly like wind. 

—————————————————-

“Hello?”  
“Hello Sir is this Scott? Scott hoying?”  
“Yes why?”  
“We need you to come down to the police station. Immediately.”


End file.
